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Song LXXXIII., pp.335-336.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]


PRithee, Susan, what dost muse on, 

By this doleful spring? 

You are, I fear, in love, my dear; 

Alas poor thing! 



Truly, Jamie, I must blame ye, 

You look so pale and wan; 

I fear ‘twill prove you are in love; 

Alas poor man! 



Nay, my Suzy, now I view ye; 

Well I know your smart, 

When you’re alone you sigh and groan; 

Alas poor heart! 



Jamie, hold; I dare be bold 

To say, thy heart is stole, 

And know the she as well as thee; 

Alas poor soul! 



Then, my Sue, tell me who; 

I’ll give thee beads of pearl, 

And ease thy heart of all this smart; 

Alas poor girl! 



Jamie, no, if you shou’d know, 

I fear ‘twou’d make you sad, 

And pine away both night and day; 

Alas poor lad! 



Why then, my Sue, it is for you, 

That I burn in these flames; 

And when I die, I know you’ll cry, 

Alas poor James! 



Say you so, then, Jamie, know, 

If you should prove untrue, 

Then must I likewise cry, 

Alas poor Sue! 


Quoth he, then join thy hand with mine, 

And we will wed to day: 

I do agree, here ‘tis, quoth she, 

Come let’s away. 

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